the piano that implored

The piano is sitting in the corner of the room, longing to have its cold, black and white keys touched by loving fingers. Fingers that dance atop its surface, playing a melodious tune that echoes throughout the home. With each note and press of the keys, the piano becomes happier. Knowing that she is loved. 

Although she has gathered dust, that does not shroud her true beauty and potential. As her music floats into the air and into the hearts of those around her, she is content. Knowing that she is wanted......and appreciated.

She feels new again. 

As the hands leave, and the lovely echo fades, the piano awaits until the time that someone will notice her. And hear her. Hear her imploring words. "Come," she says. "Come play a tune. Touch my keys and create a masterpiece that only ears can see."